Azula Watches A Herd

Truth be told, she was not sure why she was paying any real attention to what was outside of the carriage as they traveled. For all that one could say about the beauty and charms of nature, the farms were terribly dull and she could be spending her time doing something more productive. And then she spotted the predator moving closer to the kolasheep, the herd of dozing fluff oblivious to the doom that was stalking them. Her lips twitched, as she leaned forward, hoping to catch this bit of entertainment, of this violence.

There was something, as as the herd began to bleat in fear, as the tigerserpent came into the open, a hungry roar, that was fitting and intoxicating. Was it perhaps the way that she could see something of herself in the lithe predator, as it moved with grace and power to take what it willed from the compliant masses? Was it the smell of fear and violence in the air, as her grin widened? She was not sure, even as the outcome was of course guaranteed. How could it be otherwise after all?

Thus, as the sleepy herd moved, as the predator leapt... she was surprised as they lashed out, bleating in terror, moving with a blind frenzy, obviously terrified but not running or cowering. No, as something inside of her froze, they lashed out with hooves and bulk, clumsy blows and kicks tripping and making what should have been the graceful slaughter of at least one of them as hooves slammed into the deadlier and more fearsome creatures legs and sides, heads slamming and knocking it more off balance as claws come out, as blood spilled and teeth sought to catch at least one of the sheep.

And blood was flowing, as the two sides fought, as the tigerserpent was drowned in a mob of fluff, as she watched a deadly and capable predator full of grace and power, that could hunt on its own and was feared as a deadly beast, was mobbed and torn apart despite casualties by a herd of terrified prey animals. Her mind stilled as she watched the carnage unfold, as she witnessed the impossible. This? This had to be some sort of fever dream, could not be how things normally went. The herd had feared the tigerserpent, and so should have easily perished to the superior predator, as that was what was natural and right.

She would learn, that apparently, predators went after single targets, the weak, the old and the sick. They did not normally go after healthy groups, as it was only the young and stupid, or the desperate that did so. Because the herd, according to the farmers, when they got scared and did not think they could run? Sure, some of them would be injured, could even die, but get them scared enough and take away options? Well, the herd would be to terrified to think as individuals, only as a single mob that wanted to remove the source of their fear.

On returning to the palace, and being informed of more truths by her father, she put this out of mind. After all, people were not sheep.

The True Nature of Zaraki Kenpachi

Yhwach looked at Zaraki Kenpachi and felt unease. Yes, the man in his grip had fallen, been subdued, but it was not like he could take credit. No, the one in his grip had done that to himself. It was disturbing on more than one level, as he examined the grinning form of the man in his grip. He had considered giving the offer to make the man a special war asset in the war, but on closer examination, the almighty reconsidered things. A part of him wanted to squeeze, to crush the mans throat here and now, to snap his neck and be done with it, to end the threat before he truly woke. Another part, as he threw the man aside, wished for him to slip free of the chains once more, as he had already cut through them once before.

After all, what else could bind the man, other than chains of his own making?

Gremmy Thoumeaux had to admit, that Zaraki Kenpachi defied imagination. Was it because he was so complex that the mind could not grasp all that the man was... or was he so simple that all else other than the fundamental truth of the man fall to the side, a strength borne of overwhelming simplicity? He could not tell, even as time and space itself were cut. As he could feel things in the edges of his mind from where that blade cut, as it slashed away at reality itself, showing things underneath. Things that his mind struggled with, primordial things, fundamental things that had no name, shape, form or substance.

But there was a truth, as he tried to imagine himself equal to the one before him, as power flooded his being, strength that surged, shattering limits, shattering himself as he beheld the sword in the hand. The hand held everything, and in that hand was a sword longer and sharper than creation itself. His mind ruptured. His body failed. His spirit paused. Imagination alone could not pass the gap, and so he ceased to be, eyes wide as he looked at the monstrous existence before him.

Ichibē Hyōsube looked down at the Kenpachi along with Yhwach, at the thing that did not have an actual name. Worst of all, none of his abilities seemed to work from afar, as the last chains had fallen off the beast. There was no name, no destiny, as the pair of them paused their battle, just looking at the absurdity playing out. "You had him in your hands, and you did not finish him off?"

The brat heard the unease and the shock in his tone, yes, as he leveled an unimpressed glare at the monk. "And he has been serving as a court guard commander for how long exactly?"

Yes, there was sarcasm there, an unspoken 'you had him in your grip far longer old man' that was loud and clear. Which fair. "Fair. Still, to see a Buddha that has achieved heaven through violence..." The ancient monk shook his head. "That is supposed to be impossible!"